Dandelion
by Kensley-Jackson
Summary: "He was, in every sense of the word, a savior. And yet, I couldn't even bring myself to speak with him." Post-Mockingjay, Pre-Epilogue. Rated M for future chapters.
1. Dandelion

**A/N: It's a new fandom for Kensley-Jackson :) For those hoping I'd update my Chuck/Blair WIP...I'm sad to say that I'm on hiatus from that fandom until further notice. I love my OTP and always, always will. But I can't stand what the writers have done to our show and couple and I need to be away from it for a while before I have the desire to write for it again.**

**But until then, there's my new fav couple, Katniss & Peeta! I'm hoping my readers are into this pairing and that I can also meet new readers in this fandom as well. I've been blown away by the passion I've seen in Katniss/Peeta fiction so far and am really excited to start this journey with you all! **

**Rating: M for future chapters. The setting is post-Mockingjay, pre-Epilogue. Just another girl's take on how they found their way back to each other! Reviews/feedback of any kind is always welcome!**

Dandelion: Prologue

I don't know what came over me. It just sort of happened.

That's all a lie, of course. I've known this moment was inevitable, since long before my world fell apart. Not the first time when I was reaped. Not the second time either. Truly, the world as I knew it had not actually ceased to exist until I saw my baby sister burned alive in front of my eyes.

That's when I knew I'd never be happy again.

They all left me- it felt like it happened one by one but really it was a single swoop of abandonment from my loved ones. My mother sent to District Four. Gale was off to District Two, although I wouldn't find that out till later. I never asked Haymitch, the only one to make it back to Twelve with me, what happened to Peeta- but I pieced it together all on my own. He went back to the Capitol, taken from me yet again by them, but this time - I could only hope - to be healed and not further damaged.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't resent him more than the others. It's not fair, of course- after all, I'm the reason he was kidnapped and tortured in the first place, and yet it's his absence that makes me ache the most. Not because I loved him the most, but because he's the only person who has suffered the same as me these past two years.

My soul-mate from the unluck of the draw.

I both crave his company and loathe the very thought of it. Because I know he's out there alive somewhere in a place without me. And even though my every thought should be consumed with only the images of those who I couldn't save...my brain won't let me stop thinking about the boy with the bread and if I'd ever see him again.

I tried to force myself to not fantasize about reuniting with him, would that day ever come. I should have learned my lesson the last time when I mistook his attempt to take my life for a comforting hug. But still, I thought about it always.

That being said, I still can't get over my shock when I do finally see him, after all that time, suddenly in front of me. Flushed in the face, arms dirtied by soil...but his eyes. There was nothing coarse about them, nothing harsh. They were just as boundless and calm as they always were.

There was an exchange of words, I remember, but I'll be damned if I can think about whether or not I spoke. I remember falling to the ground in my bedroom. I broke things, I bathed, and then I vomited it.

I vomited because after I purged my room of awful memories, I forced myself to comprehend what had transpired just before.

Peeta was released from the Capitol and first thing he did was trudge through the forrest that he hates, dig up bushes for my dead sister, and plant them in my yard. Not only did he come back to Twelve and back to me, but his first act as a free man was to pay tribute to the person I loved most in this world in an attempt to ease my misery.

He was, in every sense of the word, a savior. And yet, I couldn't even bring myself to speak with him.

But that wasn't what made me sick.

I realized in that moment, as hard as a notion it was to comprehend, that him showing up at my house that day was a sign that I might actually survive this body-numbing misery. And part of me didn't want it- didn't want to think it was even possible for me to deserve it.

But then that night at dinner, when I sat down to poke around the food Greasy Sae had prepared for me, I noticed something new at the center of the table. A freshly picked dandelion resting in a glass of water.

And I knew I was a goner.

TBC.

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><p><strong>Thoughts? -KJ<strong>


	2. Smile

**AN: Thanks so much for the wonderful reviews. They've got me even more excited to go on this journey with all of you. This chapter may not be as long as you want it to be, but I'm working on a outline for many more chapters, so there's always more to come! -KJ**

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><p>Chapter 1<p>

The next morning I decided that I would try to go hunting again. It's not that I was feeling particularly well rested (the nightmares are still there every time I close my eyes) or even back to my old self at all (I've stopped remembering what that feels like), but there was something in the back of my mind telling me that I had to try.

Over a quiet breakfast I try to avoid looking at the dandelion, but it never quiet leaves the corner of my eye. I tell myself it has nothing to do with my sudden conviction to hunt game again. Of course I only do that because if I allowed myself to acknowledge the truth - that it was, in actuality, everything - well then, I'm not sure what I'd do. So it's best to just push it all to the back of my head and focus my mind on other things.

And focus I do.

On the coarse lace of my hunting boots. On the blades of grass covered in morning dew. On the rock I used to share with Gale. The silence all around me. The secrets these woods have kept. The energy as it seeps from my body.

I'm alone. I'm all alone.

I slide my fingers under the sleeve of my jacket and pinch the flesh on my arm. I feel the sting and I try to remind myself: you're not alone. You still have someone. But when I'm out here alone, in a place that used to harbor every smile I ever gave, and I can't even bring the muscles in my face to twitch...I'm not sure so. Not of anything.

I grow so exhausted from the trek, I can't even bring myself to raise my bow when I see a squirrel cross my path. I let him go, just like I try to let go all the memories I associate with who I was before the world ended. I was hoping it'd be therapeutic, but all I feel is empty.

On my walk back to the fence, I slip on some moss and hit my shoulder and the back of my arm on a jagged tree stump. My eyes tear up as I feel skin break, but I don't even bother to inspect the damage. The hurt, it helps to remind me that I'm alive. I'm too exhausted to figure out what this new connection between pain and living means to me. I just hope it's not a permanent condition.

After Thom helps escort me home, like some sort of invalid- though I'm silently grateful for his help- I wait on the couch for night to come so I can forget about what I felt today and get back to the nightmares I know are waiting for me.

And then he appears. Not Peeta. But Buttercup. Our reunion is everything you'd imagine. There's anger, that after everything, he of all creatures would manage to survive. There's frustration, because no matter how much I yell at him, hr can't seem to understand that the girl he loved- the girl he came all this way for- isn't alive anymore. And there's despair. Because as much as I hate this cat, all I want in that moment is to see him jumping into Prim's waiting arms because that's the way things are supposed to be, but will never be again. Not ever.

"She's dead, you stupid cat. She's dead."

I yell, I choke, I sob.

I break down for the first time and it's the realest I've felt in so long. Even though the pain is so excruciating, something I never thought I'd survive feeling, when I wake from sleep hours later, part of me feels...calm. Not better. Not content. But as if some large burden has been lifted, even if just a few centimeters off my chest. Buttercup's yellow eyes glow in the dark and I am reminded that I am not alone.

Peeta doesn't come by that night, but I honestly don't mind. One look out into the garden tells me he must have come by when I was out hunting, and part of me has to respect that he didn't wait around to see me. If Greasy Sae told him where I was, and I'm sure she did, he must have known better than to interrupt my return to the woods.

That being said, my breath hitches for just a moment the next morning when I round the corner and see him bending over and rubbing Buttercup behind her ears. I can hear him purring in a way he only ever did when Prim would snuggle up to him. It's a quiet moment, one I don't wish to disturb for some reason, until my foolish pride gets the best of me and I blurt out, "Careful about his cut."

Peeta pulls his hand away instinctively, having been startled. He apparently didn't know I was there.

"I'm sorry" he says.

"I just patched him up last night. He was injured" I say, trying to explain. But really I just feel like a jerk.

"Poor Buttercup" Peeta says, picking him up and inspected the place where I tended to his wound.

"He doesn't like being held" I stutter out. But Buttercup's audible purring tells us both differently.

If Peeta hears me, than he chooses not to respond. I'm secretly grateful.

"You did a good job patching him up" he tells me, walking over to give me a better look at his healing cut. "See?"

"It was the least I could do. He was bleeding after all" I say, unable to make eye contact. I'm pathetic.

"What happened here?" Peeta suddenly asks me. Even though I'm looking at the floor, I can practically hear his eyebrows furrow with worry.

His finger tips graze the edge of my teeshirt, where dried blood from my fall the day before is just visible. I move away from his touch instinctively, the tenderness of the cut apparent on my face.

"Did you not think to patch yourself up too?" There's a hint of accusation in his tone.

"I'm fine. Promise" I tell him. I attempt to move away from his concerned gaze and closer to the smell of sizzling bacon and fresh rolls, but he grabs my hand- keeping me in place.

"Then let me take a look at it."

"Greasy Sae made breakfast" I insist.

"It won't take a minute" Peeta tells me, then he drops my hand. "Come on."

He puts Buttercup down and waits for me to lead the way to the bathroom. I do, albeit begrudgingly. I'm not exactly sure how Peeta taking care of me is supposed to help my current state of numbness, but I have a feeling it won't lead to anything good. Of course, that may just be my stubbornness talking.

Once we're in the bathroom, he helps me pull my arm out of my shirt sleeve to give him access to my shoulder- which would have been a lot more embarrassing if I failed to put on a bra before going downstairs. I try to not make more out of the situation than I should. After all, I'm just the patient in this scenario.

And he's my healer.

But I don't think so much about that part, even as he sweeps my hair over my other shoulder. Even as his hand lingers for just a moment too long.

"It's just a scrape" I tell him, as if this whole situation is pointless.

"It's worse than you think" he responds.

I'm not sure if we're still talking about my shoulder.

"This might sting" he says before a disinfecting liquid hits the cut.

I close my eyes, waiting for the moment to pass. I don't focus on anything else. Not his fingers on my skin as he works to clean the cut. Not the way he softly blows on my shoulder, willing the newly applied medicine to dry. And definitely not his body's proximity to me with half of my chest and torso exposed.

I don't focus on those things because they're just stupid details. Irrelevant. I'm not like the other girls from District Twelve, who allow their lives to be run by hormones and puppy love and the approval or disapproval of the boys they liked.

But then I remember that there's no District Twelve anymore. Or at least not like it used to be.

Things are different now. The world is different. But even though I am different too, there are still things about the old me I'd like to preserve if possible. Things like not letting myself be controlled by my feelings for a man. Regardless to what those feelings may be.

I feel Peeta tape gauze to my shoulder and I'm thankful that this exchange is over. He leaves the room without saying anything and I think he's left me to put my shirt back on in peace, until he returns a moment later with a button-down shirt.

"What's that?" I ask, even though I recognize it from my own dresser.

"You won't be able to put your shirt back on with the gauze taped on like that-it's too tight. You need to let it breath" he says, holding up the shirt as he waits for me to put two and two together.

Funny choice of words, I think, as my throat begins to constrict: he wants me to change my shirt. In front of him.

His eyes search mine for a moment, trying to suss out what my grey eyes are telling him. But as usual, I mask my emotions well. I find myself nodding at him, but I'm mostly just looking for an excuse for us to break eye contact.

He moves behind me, ever the gentleman, and I lift my arm- allowing him to pull the shirt off of me. The cool air puckers my skin (I'm almost certain it's the air) almost instantly, but within seconds Peeta is helping me slide my arms through the cotton button-down.

I work on the buttons myself. My fingers don't waiver in the slightest when I feel Peeta pull my hair out from under the shirt and allow it to fall over my back.

If I had half a mind, I'd be embarrassed by the current state of my hair. I can't remember the last time I brushed it and I'm sure it looks a mess. Peeta doesn't seem to mind though. I'm not sure if this fact should bother me or not.

He continues to touch my hair- running his fingers through the parts he can, attempting to untangle the knots in other places- until I've finished buttoning my shirt. It takes a little longer than I'd like, as I found my traitorous fingers trembling softly.

I release a breath I didn't know I was holding, letting him know I was done.

"There. That wasn't so bad was it?" his voice breaks the silence. And the moment, for whatever it was worth, has passed.

I shake my head "no."

"Then let's go eat" he says, and then he's gone.

"You're staying for breakfast then?" I hear myself calling after him.

In response, I hear the faint sound of him chuckling.

Then, ever so slowly, I find the closest thing to a smile I've had in ages grace my lips.

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><p>TBC. Thoughts?<p> 


	3. Truce

Dandelion: Chapter 2

He's just so...warm. That's all I can think about over breakfast. I stay quiet, as I've been accustomed to doing lately, and just observe. Peeta invites Greasy Sae to eat with us and I swear, he could hold a conversation with house-plant and none would be the wiser. He's that charming.

I think back to when he cracked a joke about Pollux being our most valuable asset and how it put everyone's mind at ease for the time being. It's a gift that he has. The ability to make everyone around him feel better, even at a dark time like that when I knew he how much he was suffering inside.

Over breakfast, he seems so normal, so cured of all the pain and despair he endured, that I almost can't believe it. Of course it must be an act to some degree. There's no way the way he's acting is how he really feels on the inside. It can't be. And still, unless you were as paranoid as me, you'd never know.

"Can you pass the bacon?" I ask just so I can join the conversation. The truth is I've barely touched my food. I've been busy watching.

"What's wrong with this bacon?" Peeta asks, picking a strip off my plate and munching on it.

"Someone ate it" I say, forcing a lightness to my tone so it doesn't come off sarcastic. I'm trying to play along, to take some of the weight off this meal. Because I can only imagine how heavy Peeta's burden is on himself.

He smirks at me in response, as he passes me more bacon, and I know that I've done something right.

"You want another roll too?" he asks, and I'm about to turn it down until he says "I made them just for you."

"Sure" I say, staring at my plate.

The rest of the meal is fairly uneventful and it's just a matter of time until Greasy Sae is saying goodbye and Peeta volunteers to stay behind and help clean up. And after it's down to just the two of us, it only feels right to offer to have him stay for tea.

It's a bleak day. Overcast with a chance of rain. Peeta gets a fire going before I can even suggest it. And all of the sudden, things become very domestic. And intimate. By the time I join him on the couch, I find that Buttercup has already found his way back into Peeta's arms.

"I shouldn't be surprised he's taken to you so quickly" I say, breaking the silence.

"He's friendly little guy" Peeta says.

"He really isn't. We kind of hate each other" I explain.

"Maybe it's best to let bygones be bygones" he says, taking my hand and guiding me to pet Buttercup's fur.

My hand tenses up for a moment, like I'm actually scared he's gonna snap his head back and bite me. But he doesn't. In fact, within moments Buttercup starts purring.

"See?" Peeta says, proud of himself.

I pull my hand back. Away from both of them. I really am a mess.

"I doubt we'll be very good company to each other" I tell him "In fact, you can take him home with you if you want" I tell him.

"I couldn't do that" he says.

"Sure you can" I say, even though the idea of them both leaving me is a tough pill to swallow. "Besides, he's not really mine. He's just an orphan now."

My voice catches on the word "orphan" as I realize Buttercup's not the only one in the room without parents.

"Even orphans need homes. Besides, I like knowing there's someone looking after you when I'm not around" he tells me. It's light-hearted, but there's truth behind his words.

"Then who's gonna look after you?" I ask.

He gives me an easy smile.

"I'm fine, Katniss" he says.

"You really expect me to believe that?"

"Yeah" he says without hesitating "I do."

In front of us, the fire crackles with life. That was me once, I think. Sure we were both on fire, but Peeta was just along for the ride. I was the face of the rebellion. The one who rebelled. The reason we find ourselves in this post-apocalyptic world. I may have gotten rid of Snow, Coin, and The Hunger Games...but at what cost? The endless list of lives lost. I did that. I'm responsible for all of it.

And all I want in this moment is for someone to hold me accountable. To blame me. To acknowledge it was all my fault.

But Peeta's not going to be the person to do that. So I do it for him.

"You're a tortured prisoner of war" I blurt out.

His smile fades. Part of me regrets my words, the other doesn't. We have to stop lying. Stop pretending. We can't ignore the facts anymore.

"I haven't forgotten" he tells me.

I watch his profile as he stares into the fire. His face hardens instantly.

"Your whole family perished in the rebellion." I suddenly don't know what I'm doing, but at the same time I know I can't stop.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks.

"You begged me to kill you. Over and over again." Tears form in my eyes as I remember.

"Please stop, Katniss" he says, his voice now raw with pain.

"None of that would have happened if I just died in the first arena. But I didn't. And it all happened. So don't tell me you're fine. You can't be. It's impossible" I whisper.

He turns to look at me, the hurt clear in his eyes. At first I think he's going to say something. But then he sets Buttercup on the ground, stands up, and leaves.

I don't see him again for two weeks.

After a few days of wallowing in my own self-pity, I work up the courage to call Dr. Aurelius. He isn't all together surprised to hear from me, which in fact surprises me.

"Why's that?" I ask.

"Well, Peeta, of course. One of the conditions of him leaving the Capitol was to check in with you and have you contact me, which he was eager to do" he says.

I feel a knock in the gut for a moment, at the implication that Peeta didn't comes back to me on his own accord, but because he was ordered to.

"Come to think of it" Dr. Aurelius says "I believe it was Peeta himself who volunteered the idea in the first place. I, of course, agreed. It felt like the right step to make in his treatment."

"Is he...is he cured?" I ask, suddenly afraid it's taken me this long to ask myself this question.

"I don't know that a person can ever be cured of that type of torture and brainwashing, unless of course we tried to brainwash him again-"

"No!" I shout before I can help myself.

"Of course that's just a hypothetical situation, Katniss. We would never actually attempt that unless he got worse. How has he been since he returned?"

"He's been...well. I'm the mess still" I confess.

"Would you like to tell me about it?" he asks.

"I guess...I guess I'm just conflicted about how I'm dealing with my...with my..."

"Depression" he says.

"Yes. Part of me thinks I deserve it-no, _knows_ I deserve it. For all the suffering I caused. And I think I shouldn't be allowed to be pulled out of it. Most days I can't even fathom the idea of being out of it" I say.

I think back to the dandelion. And I see Peeta's face. And suddenly it's all I can see. The words flow out of me before I can stop them.

"But then there are moments, when he's around me, and all I want to do is get better. And I don't want to hurt anymore. I just want to be happy and I want it for him too. I want it for him more than myself. Because he really does deserve it. But I don't know how to help him. I just make things worse."

"I understand" he says "I may be breaking patient-doctor confidentiality when I say this, but since I feel it will do more good than harm, I'm taking a risk. Everything you just said to me, he's said the same about him and about you. He can't comprehend the way he's hurt you."

"But he was hijacked because of me! None of that is his fault. It was all me!" I yell, even though I know the intended audience can't hear me.

"You realize you're all he has left, right? His family and friends are dead. I tried to give him the choice to move to another district and try and start over, like so many of us have done, but he refused. You're the only thing that matters to him. He entered our sessions each day with one goal in mind: get better so he could come back to you"

"But I don't deserve him" I say, defeated by my own self-loathing.

"What if you do and you just don't know it?"

After that, the conversation shifted. Dr. Aurelius told me in order to fight my depression, I'd have to do it the old-fashioned way. I had to get back to living my life and eventually, things would make sense again.

So I start with hunting, this time fueled with a new kind of energy. If Peeta could conquer his flashbacks for me, than I can get back to my old self for him. It takes a little while, but within a few days my aim starts to return to me. I also start to take care of myself better. I bathe, I wash my clothes, I clean the house. I take care of Buttercup. He's still mad at me, I can only assume, since Peeta hasn't be around. But he seems less hostile as I get back into the swing of things. I feed him, check on his healing wounds, and yes, occasionally I even pet him on my own accord.

One day, when I just can't take not seeing him in so long, I decide to visit Peeta. I go out hunting first, kill three squirrels-hitting them all in the eyes- string them up and bring them over to his house. I'm hoping the peace-offering will prevent him from outright slamming the door in my face.

I knock. And wait. Until finally, the door opens.

He doesn't slam the door in my face, but he doesn't smile either. Or speak, for that matter. There's something inherently sad about his whole demeanor. It tears me up inside, knowing I was the cause of it.

I hold up the squirrels, hoping the gesture alone will be enough.

It's not.

"I brought..." but before I finish, he's already walking back into the house. But he leaves the door open. So I follow him.

The moment I enter the house I can smell something spectacular coming from the kitchen. I discover loaves of bread in the oven and the makings of a stew on the stove.

Peeta gets back to cooking immediately. He doesn't say anything else or give me instructions, so I just rummage for supplies on my own and take the squirrels outside to skin and clean. When I'm done, I bring the meat back inside on a plate and just kind of hoover, not really knowing what to do next.

It takes him a moment to come to my uncomfortable rescue.

"Thanks" he says quietly, taking the plate from me.

I hang back and watch as he slices the meat into bit-size pieces and cooks them in a skillet before adding it to the stew. I fidget for a moment before realizing the least I can do is set the table while I wait. I walk over the cabinet to get the plates, but I must do so too quietly because suddenly Peeta and I are colliding into each other.

He grabs me by the shoulders to steady me, instinctively. And we just kind of stand there for a moment, face to face, not saying anything. Before I know it, I'm pulling him towards me, wrapping my arms around his back and pressing my face into his neck. I hold my breath until I feel him hug me back. I sigh in relief, my breath tickling his skin. I squeeze him harder, suddenly afraid this is all some sick dream. Until I remember the only dreams I have anymore are nightmares. And this is definitely not one of those.

"I'm sorry" I whisper against him "I'm so sorry."

"Shhh" he responds.

We stay like that for a few minutes, not saying another word. I could have stayed there all night, I realize, because when the buzzer on the stove goes off and we have to break away, I feel like my soul's been ripped from my body.

We eat in silence. The food is amazing. I scarf it down as fast as I can to make up for the void I feel sitting across from him.

It's not until we're done and cleaning up that the silence is broken.

"What have you been up to?" he asks suddenly.

It startles me so much that I don't hesitate to answer.

"I spoke to Dr. Aurelius" I tell him.

He seems just as surprised by my response as I do.

"You did?" he asks.

"We had a good talk" I say "He says hello."

"Good. That's...that's good Katniss" he says.

We continue to clean. I know it's only right for me to ask him the same question, but part of me is afraid to.

"What about you?" I ask.

"I'm...I'm not fine" he says after a moment.

I look up at him, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words.

"I lied to you the other day when I said I was fine. I'm not. Not by a long shot" he tells me.

I'm both relieved and devastated by this confession. Relieved to know I'm not alone in my miserable suffering. Devastated because I know I'm the cause of it. I think back to my conversation with Dr. Aurelius:

_You're the only thing that matters to him._

I clear my throat, knowing this is my moment to give him the same type of hope he's given me.

"I think you can be- with time. That's no comfort to hear now, I know, but...maybe someday we can be fine."

"Can or will?" he asks.

"Will. We will be fine" I tell him. And for the first time, I believe myself when I say it.

Peeta nods. I'm not sure if he's doing it for my benefit or his own. But at least it's something. He tries to give me a smile, but it comes off a lot more sad than I think he intends. I return one to the best of my ability. Both attempts are pretty pathetic, but no one's really in the position to judge the other.

"I'm better with you around, you know? In a lot of ways" he tells me.

"Me too" I say.

"When we're apart, I'm just no good. The darkness feels darker, if that makes sense" Peeta says.

"It does" I tell him, biting my lip. "I never should have said those things to you."

"But you were right. I was trying so hard to suppress everything, to force myself to be normal to help you, and that was wrong. We need to be honest with each other if we're ever gonna get past this."

"I know. I just don't understand how you don't hate me. How you can even look at me" I say.

Peeta walks up to me, cradles my face in his hand, and forces me to look into his eyes.

"Katniss, I could never hate you, not even when I was programmed to kill you. I love you too damn much" he tells me "You know that, don't you?"

I do know. I've always known.

But knowing something and hearing it out-loud and two very different things.

I nod in response.

He kisses my forehead.

And that night, I'm not as afraid to face my nightmares. Because I know I'll get to see him again tomorrow.

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><p>TBC.<p>

Reviews are much appreciated!


	4. Normal

**AN: Hello wonderful readers! First, I just wanted to thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. I had more planned for this chapter, but this just felt like a more natural stopping point. Also, you've been so patient! XOXO KJ**

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><p>Chapter 3: Normal<p>

Over the next few weeks, we fall into a routine of sorts. Our relationship neither regresses or progresses- we just sort of find a new sense of what our "normal" is and that normal involves us existing together. He still lives at his house and I live at mine, but we spend most of our meals together. During most days he bakes and paints, while I prefer to be out in the woods hunting.

On nights he invites me to his house, I carry Buttercup over with me because he and Peeta have taken quite a liking to each other. I can tell Buttercup misses Peeta when he doesn't come around and it only seems fair to take him with me. Even though Buttercup and I aren't exactly best of friends these days, we're both making an effort and for now, that seems like enough.

One day I realize that Greasy Sae has stopped coming by. She's fine, I'd find out soon enough, but I suppose she decided somewhere along the way that I was finally prepared to take care of myself. Or maybe it was that Peeta and I were already taking care of each other. Regardless, it soon became just about the two of us. Or three, if you count Buttercup. But I rarely do.

Most days Peeta waits for me at the fence after I've been out hunting and walks me back to my house. Some days he's chatty and other days he doesn't say anything. Somedays he takes my hand in his. Some days he doesn't show up at all.

I've learned to not take it personally, just like he doesn't when I don't return his calls and turn down his offer to cook me dinner. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, we just accept it and move on. He and I, we're learning- slowly but surely -to figure out what it means for us to be "normal."

We have ups and downs just like anyone, but we're also different because we've experienced horrors that others have only witnessed on television or read about in the papers. We have different needs now, plain and simple. The best we can do is to try to be as selfless as we can, giving each other whatever it is we need to get through each day.

We may suffer on the bad days, but that only makes the good days that much better.

"Katniss, I'm here!" I hear his voice coming from the foyer and a smile finds its way onto my face.

I can hear it in his voice. He's not hurting today.

"In the kitchen!" I call back, trying to not sound so eager.

He rounds the corner and gives me a big smile that makes me want to blush.

"Hey" he says, dropping off a fresh loaf of bread on the counter.

This is a good day.

"Hey" I respond.

"Where's Buttercup?" he asks, looking around.

I shrug and turn back to the food I have cooking on the stove.

"He's gotta be around somewhere" I tell him.

"Buttercup? Where are you, boy?" he calls.

"He isn't a dog, Peeta" I say, laughing to myself.

I must speak a moment too soon, because the next thing I know, Buttercup comes running down the stairs and heads right for Peeta.

"There he is" Peeta says, picking him up and rubbing his head affectionately. "Good boy, Buttercup." He turns to me, a cocky grin on his face. "You were saying?"

"I stand corrected" I say as I moved past them, carrying dinner over to the kitchen table. "It's hard to imagine there was ever a time when you two weren't attached at the hip."

"I feel that way about you and me all the time" he says. I'm not sure whether he realizes the sexual innuendo he's made or not, so I just choose to ignore it.

"Hey, you don't see me running to the door every time you come around" I tease.

"Not yet. Give it some time, Katniss" he says, and this time I can tell he's trying to be cute.

I roll my eyes and shake my head, not wanting to admit that's exactly what he's being.

"How was your day?" I ask once we're well into our meal.

His face falters the slightest bit. Perhaps too subtle for a stranger to know the difference, but we're well beyond that phase.

"It was alright. I went by my family's old bakery today. Or at least, what was left of it" he tells me after a moment.

"You did?" I ask, genuinely surprised.

"It was Dr. Aurelius' idea" he says simply "It's all part of the process. The acceptance. You need it to move on."

I think of primrose bushes growing in my backyard and simply nod.

"I would have gone with you" I say, even though I know he would have asked me if he wanted me there.

"It was just something I needed to do alone" he tells me.

"Of course."

"But the next time I go, I'd like it if you were with me" he says.

"The next time?" I ask.

"It's not in the best shape, but the structure is still standing. I walked around inside. Even though it will take a lot of time and work...I think it's salvageable" Peeta says. "According to Dr. Aurelius, it's just a matter of time before residents start to move back to District 12 and when they do, they're gonna need to eat."

It's all so strange to think about- the idea of District 12 truly moving on and becoming a functioning place again. But also, there's great comfort in the idea. And knowing Peeta is setting such a high goal for himself fills my heart with warmth.

"That sounds amazing; I'd love to go with you, Peeta" I tell him "I'm...I'm proud of you."

I reach over and cover his hand with mine. He gives me a small smile and squeezes my hand back.

"I just don't want to forget them."

For days after that, Peeta's words echoed in my head.

_I just don't want to forget them._

At first, it made no sense to me because the idea of forgetting any of the horrible things we witnessed seemed impossible. But then I realized he wasn't talking about remembering the way our family and friends died. He meant remembering who they were before the rebellion. Even without being hijjacked myself, I'd be lying if I said I never had trouble remembering certain details of those we've lost.

I rack my brain for forgotten images since replaced by more terrible ones. Rue, snuggled up to me in our sleeping bag. Madge's warm smile as she handed me my Mockingjay pin. The look on Prim's face when I brought her Lady. Annie and Finnick on their wedding day.

The moment the idea comes to me, I call Dr. Aurelius in the middle of the night and tell him everything. In a sleepy state, he tells me my idea for a book is inspired and that I should start right away.

The next morning, a box of parchment paper is delivered to my house and I bring it over to Peeta's immediately.

"I was thinking I could write the words and you could draw or paint whatever memory you'd like. It's something we can do together, so that we don't forget" I tell him.

He doesn't respond. Instead, he takes my hand and guides me upstairs to a room I've never been in before: his art room. Scattered all about the four walls is sketches and drawings of faces both familiar and foreign. The table in the middle of the room is covered in every type of ink, pencil, and paint you could imagine. I see that Dr. Aurelius has been just as kind to Peeta as he's been to me.

"The day I left the Capitol, I swore to myself I'd never forget anything ever again. Even the things I want to forget. But it's hard because there are still so many things in my head that I'm not sure are even real" he tells me.

"I'll help you" I promise.

We spend the afternoon going through every sketch he's done since he's been back. Some are more painful than others.

_ His hands wrapped around my neck after being rescued from the Capitol._

"Real" I whisper. He tapes it to the wall.

_His father bringing me cookies the day of the reaping._

"Real" I tell him. Again, the sketch is taped to the wall.

_Mags walking into the burning mist to save our lives._

"Real." He tapes the sketch to the wall.

_Finnick and I kissing each other in the water._

"Not real" I say. I take the drawing out of Peeta's hands and rip it in half.

I hesitate to say anything further, but I soon can't help myself from saying:

"That was you and me."

Peeta looks up at me, genuinely surprised.

"In the water?" he asks.

"On the beach" I tell him, adding "You can't swim."

Peeta crosses the room and flips through another sketch book. He stops at one drawing and stares at it for a moment. He shows it to me.

It's of he and I, wrapped around each other, kissing on the beach the night I told him I could never lose him.

"Real or not real?" he asks, just to be sure.

"Real" I say "Very real."

Peeta lets this sink in.

"I assumed it was just a fantasy. One the Capitol failed to turn on me" he says as he rips it out of his sketch book and tapes it to the wall- far away from all the other drawings.

A little while later, I find another sketch, this one I can tell he did quite recently. Annie pregnant. Peeta sees me holding it.

"Real or not real?" he asks.

"Real" I tell him "She had a boy, but Finnick never...he died before he could meet him."

I can tell Peeta is struggling with what he wants to say next, so I tell him to just spit it out.

"Were you ever...you know..."

"No! God, no. It was a lie we told the Capitol. Then after the Quell it was reported that I miscarried and that was the end of that" I practically snap at him.

"You could have just said 'not real' Katniss" he tells me, the hurt clear in his voice.

"I'm sorry. It's just that after all this time, the idea of being pregnant still terrifies me. I can't imagine what it must have been like for Annie, knowing what kind of danger Finnick was in. And then for him to not make it..."

"At least she has a part of him now" Peeta says.

"But she'll never get Finnick back either" I say, my voice quivering.

"She'll also never be alone again" he tells me "It must be nice, having that."

The air starts to get heavy.

"You're not alone, Peeta. You have me. And Buttercup" I tell him.

"For now" he says.

"You going somewhere?" I ask.

"Just forget it" he says, taping the picture of pregnant Annie to the wall.

"Look, I didn't mean...whatever it is you're thinking, you can tell me" I say.

Peeta sighs and looks over at me.

"I know how you feel about having children, okay? I know you say it's not for you. But you still have family left in this world. I don't. So the idea of being a father, it's important to me. It'll always will be."

It hits me at that moment that as two people who ultimately want different things out of life, there's a very good possibility that at some point, we'll be spending the rest of our lives with different people. He'll spend his with a woman who can give him children; I with a man who doesn't want them. It's a terrible, horrid thought that makes my stomach turn with frustration and jealousy, but I find ways to suppress it. After all, I'm the one who pressed him to make such a statement.

I make up some excuse to leave the room- the air inside his workspace suddenly becoming too thick to handle.

As I walk away, I can hear the sound of a drawing being ripped in half. And although I can't be certain, I'm convinced the picture Peeta is destroying is one of me pregnant with his child.

And just like that, even from beyond the grave, President Snow has won yet again.

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><p>TBC.<p>

Reviews are always welcome! -KJ


	5. Pearl

**AN: Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of your kind words! They mean more to me than I can put into words. I appreciate that you all understand the slow build up in their relationship. While things will turn, ahem, mature later on, I think the pacing is key in this story.**

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><p>Chapter 4: Pearl<p>

Things always have to get worse before they can get better.

It was what my mother used to say to me when I was a child. Of course, that was long before she lost her husband to the mines and me a father. But still, from time to time I am reminded of this saying of hers and I try to force myself to believe it.

I can't pray. I can't bring myself to do it. I'm too much of a cynic. After witnessing The Hunger Games on television my whole life and then surviving the arena twice, I'm not sure how I could ever be anything but a cynic. If there was a God, surely he'd never allow such horrors to transpire.

And even though I'm not a believer, I don't know how I would have survived last night without even an ounce of hope that my mother's words could hold truth to them.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

After leaving Peeta in his drawing room that afternoon, him and I never spoke about children again for a very, very long time. We spent a few days apart, as we've grown accustomed to doing when we need space, before finding our way back into our routine. The next few weeks went by relatively smooth- all things considered. We spent most afternoons working on the book, alternating between visiting with Haymitch (who contributed personal details about his friends lost in the Games we didn't know well enough) and working by ourselves.

But then, one night, something happen. Something I've anticipated but didn't know how I'd react to until it finally came to pass.

I went over to Peeta's after a day of hunting. I heard him moving around upstairs, so I dropped the game off in the freezer and headed up to greet him.

He was hunched over a drawing- or so I thought. The closer I got, I realized it was actually a painting. A swirl of bright colors jumping off the canvass. At first glance I assumed it was of a sunset- his favorite time of day.

But by the time I could get a good look over his shoulder, I saw how wrong I was. It wasn't a sunset after all.

It was a blood bath.

Peeta's father, mother, and two brothers, all being brutally slain by a vicious creature with a wood-chopping axe.

The creature has monstrous fangs elongating themselves from it's mouth. Jagged claws clasp the axe it's brute hands. And it's eyes- the crudest shade of yellow I've ever seen.

If it wasn't for the detail of the braid, I never would have realized I was looking at a picture of myself.

But it was. And suddenly the reality of only standing a mere few inches away from a hijacked Peeta hits me.

"Peeta" I whisper in a vain attempt to snap him out of his flashback.

But I know when he looks over his shoulder with such unadulterated rage in his eyes that I'm in imminent danger.

"It's okay, Peeta" I tell him. In some sick way, it feels like I'm giving him permission for whatever is about to transpire- whatever actions he takes that he has no control over.

"You filthy mutt" he sneers.

And with that, I take flight.

Down the hallway and down the stairs. I fumble in my mind, trying to figure out if I have an access to weapons in his house with which I can defend myself. But the moment I grab a butchers knife from the kitchen, I realize I have no intent on actually using it on him. I've been faced with the dilemma of killing Peeta before in this state of mind. But if I couldn't do it back then, I certainly can't do it now. Not after everything.

Still I hold it up in the space between us, attempting to persuade his hiijacked personality into backing down.

Suddenly he's in the kitchen with me, and my mothers words being to echo in my head like a twisted lullaby.

_ Things always have to get worse before they can get better._

My hands begin to sweat and my grip on the knife is no longer as strong as it was moments ago.

"Peeta, what you're remembering, it isn't real" I tell him.

We begin circling each other like animals in a cage. And suddenly it's like we're thrusted back into the arena. In the moments before I take out the nightlock.

Just like that, another memory flashes into my brain. Right after assassinating Snow, how I was prepared to kill myself on the spot using the nightlock yet again. Until Peeta stopped me. I begged him to let me go.

"I can't" he responded.

At the time I was in such a mental downward spiral that I wasn't able to process the full meaning of his words until this moment. He wasn't talking about physically. He was talking about emotionally. Because deep down, he was still my Peeta. And no amount of hijjacking would take him from me permanently.

"I know it feels real" I tell him in the present "But you must know in your heart that it's a lie."

He grabs a frying pan and comes at me with it, but my instincts kick in and the next thing I know, I'm slashing him in the arm- not deep enough to hit the bone, just enough that he loses his grip on the pan. He yelps in pain and my hands shake even harder than before. The sight of the blood seeping out of his arm is enough to make me want to faint.

"I...I couldn't have killed your parents" I tell him, licking my dry lips "They died after the rebellion rescued me from the arena and the Capitol kidnapped you. Don't you remember? They put you on tv and made you beg me to call for a ceasefire."

I see a multitude of emotions pass over his face, even though I can't make out a single one, something tells me I'm making progress.

"Cause I remember watching you. I remember my heart threatening to beat out of my chest because I wanted to be near you so badly. The way my throat closed up and tears formed in my eyes. There was no water around, but I could feel myself drowning. Because I knew that you and I were never meant to be apart. Not even for a night."

"Stop!" He yells.

But I can't. Not when I know I'm getting under his skin.

"Do you remember what I said the night you tried to leave me? I said 'stay with me' and you said-"

"Always" he whispers.

Relief washes over me, even though I know I'm not in the clearing yet.

"Peeta, it's me. It's just me."

I drop the knife on the floor - a final gesture of trust.

Instead, he sprints in the other direction for the front door.

"Peeta!"

Suddenly, I'm chasing after him- outside and into the heavy rain. I watch him fall to the ground and begin pounding the earth with his fists. He yells like I've never heard him before - like I'm sure only Johanna and Annie are familiar with. I try calling his name, but he can't hear me. He continues to beat the ground until his knuckles bleed.

I stand off to the side, tears silently flowing out of my eyes, feeling completely and utterly hopeless. I want to throw my body over his to protect him from himself. I want to kiss him and tell him everything will be okay. But I'm afraid anything I do or say will only make the agony of fighting the effects of the tracker jacker venom that much worse. As much as I hate to admit it, I'm not what he needs. What he needs is...

The idea hits me like a brick wall. Suddenly I'm running through the rain as fast as my shaky legs can carry me. Straight into my home and straight to the study I barely go into. I pick up Peeta's locket, the one I haven't touched since the last arena. It was the bargaining tool he once used on me to want to keep living. I can only hope it does the same for him.

But then I hear something jingle inside of it. I pry the locket open and there, against all odds and to my utter-shock, is the pearl. The last time I remember seeing it was in my pocket back when we were hiding out in the tunnels. I have no idea how it made it's way back to District 12 or into the locket, but if I was to ever believe in God for just a moment- this would be that moment.

I run back to where I left him screaming out in agony. Not much has changed. Except now he's rolling around on his back- his arm wound bleeding more than ever. He digs his bloody fingers into the earth, pulling out his chunks and throwing them about. And even though it's raining harder than ever, I can still make out the tear marks streaming down his face.

I bring the tiny pearl to my lips and kiss it, before walking over to Peeta. I perch myself next to him- not close enough to startle him, but close enough to place the pearl into his palm. I gently use my hand to cover his fingers around it for safe keeping. His eyes find mine in a soft moment of clarity. I brush my fingers over his bangs like I did many moons ago. And then I walk back home.

_ Things always have to get worse before they can get better._

I call Greasy Sae and Haymitch immediately to let them know what happened and to make sure Peeta's injury got the care it deserved. Neither questioned my decisions and while they assured me I did the only thing I could do, my mind would not allow myself to find sleep that night.

I stay in bed most of the next morning and day, willing myself to fall asleep for short intervals at a time. At one point, I wake to the sound of my front door opening. My whole body, on high alert, tenses up immediately.

"Katniss?" I hear Peeta's voice from downstairs. But it sounds like he's back to normal. I doubt Greasy Sae or Haymitch would let him out of their sight otherwise.

"Upstairs" I call back, my voice wavering as I do.

Subconsciously, I bring the covers up around me like a shield.

Soon he's standing in my doorway, his face covered in shame in a way I've never seen before. He takes in my demeanor.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just walked in like that. But I was knocking for at least twenty minutes and I was worried..." he trails off, knowing how ironic of a thing that is to say.

"It's okay" I tell him, dropping the covers to my lap "I just had trouble sleeping."

"Me too" he confesses "I...I don't know what to say, to be honest."

"You always know what to say" I say, instinctively.

"Not this time, I'm afraid" he says sadly.

"You don't have to say anything."

Then, tentatively, I find myself patting a space on the bed for him to sit. He does so, just as tentatively as you'd imagine. His back faces me as he stares into the wall- testing himself.

Then, he begins. "It hadn't happened in so long. I thought maybe I was cured."

"Peeta..." I start.

"No, it's okay. I need to say this. It was foolish of me to think I was strong enough to ever purge the venom from my brain entirely. In some ways, it's a part of me now and always will be. That realization is enough to make me want to move away and never see you again, so I know I'll never be in a position to hurt you again."

When I hear the words "move away" the blood starts pumping into my ears so hard I can barely make out the rest of his sentence.

"But I could never be away from you, I'd never survive. I'd sooner kill myself."

I grab onto his good arm, the first thing my hands seek out, and squeeze it to the point of pain for both of us. Because the idea of him...it's just too horrific to even consider.

"But I'm not even strong enough to do that. Because that would mean leaving you too. And I'm too much of a coward for any of that. So that lead me to realize that as long as you're okay with me still being in your life after last night, then I'm okay with it too. Because I don't have any other options" he tells me "But there is one thing I learned last night- something I now know for certain."

He turns to face me.

"No matter how lost I get, I'll always find my way back to you. Always."

A traitorous tear streaks its way down my face. Peeta uses his thumb to wipe it away. I grab his hand and press it to my cheek, holding it there. I look into his eyes and attempt to will all the pain he's ever felt to melt from his body. Instead, I turn my face to kiss his palm.

"I need you too" I whisper "So much."

Peet pulls his hand away to undo a clasp around his neck.

"I brought something for you. I made it this morning."

He presents it to me.

There, strung on a thin silver chain, is my pearl. A minuscule hole has been drilled through it and it sits daintily in the middle of the chain.

A smile breaks out on my face.

"May I?" he asks.

I nod and he fastens the necklace around my neck- our faces getting almost impossibly close for a moment.

Peeta pulls his head back and looks a me. His pointer finger slides over the pearl, now resting at the very top of my breastbone.

"For when I get lost again" he tells me.

I silently vow to never take it off.

I pull him into my arms, hugging him close to me. It's only then that I remember cutting him the night before.

"Is your arm okay?" I ask.

He pulls up his sleeve to reveal the slash- about three inches long -now stitched up nicely.

I run my finger over it gently.

"I'm so sorry" I tell him.

"Just another scare to add to my collection" he says "At least it won't be lonely."

I lean forward and kiss it softly.

"Will you lay with me for a little while?" I ask him.

"Of course" he says.

I slide back into bed, moving over enough for Peeta to stretch out beside me. I rest my head on his shoulder and breath him in- finding real relaxation for the first time in a long time.

And finally, things start to get better.

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><p>TBC...<p>

**Thoughts? **


	6. Rain

**AN: Two nights in a row, I can't believe it myself :) My muse has been hounding me big-time, which I can't complain about too much! Here's to hoping this next chapter is everything you wanted it to be!**

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><p>Chapter 5: Rain<p>

From that point on, we decided that any work on the book we'd do would happen together. After Peeta's flashback, we agreed it would be best to take a break from it all together- but it was only a matter of time before we realized the longer we waited, the farther our memories would slip from our minds. And that was something neither of us were willing to do - to forget any of the lives we lost.

When we couldn't avoid it any more, we decided we needed to make pages for each of the Tributes that died in the first arena. Before heading over to his house to work, I decided to squeeze in a few hours of hunting to work off any aggression I felt when I thought of certain Tributes I hadn't made peace with yet in my mind.

So when I show up to Peeta's house, I'm a little grimier than I'd like, but as usual he doesn't seem to find anything wrong with my appearance.

"C'mon, lets get started" he says, pulling me upstairs before I even get out a "Hi."

I realize he's probably been itching to get back into his art room for a while now-because despite what happened the last time he was there, Peeta was still an artist at heart and spending time away from that room is like me spending time away from the woods. It's just unnatural.

And once we get settled in, we begin.

Although painful, it is somehow cathartic to work on Rue's page. In some ways, it feel like enough time has passed- out of everyones' death, hers is the one I've managed to process the most. Sure it was a senseless death- they all were -and yet, I've made peace with it. I still get teary eyed when I recount the details of our time together to Peeta, the quiet moments even the cameras failed to pick up in the Games. But in the end I feel almost strong, being able to honor her in this way.

We also moved through Thresh and Foxfaces' pages with a certain amount of ease. It was all build up for the real challenge of the day: facing the memories of the Careers.

The painting Peeta does of Clove is so realistic I can practically feel her breath on my face as she threatens to kill me. Trying to come up with words to describe her, words not filled with malice and disdain, proved incredibly difficult.

But Clove's page was nothing compared to my next task. The boy I killed, Marvel, the one responsible for Rue's death...I couldn't even muster up the courage to look at the page. I implored Peeta to reach into his own memory for any aspects of Marvel's personality that he remembered- the parts that made him human. But even he came up short from his own limited time with the Careers.

"You can't remember anything good about him, Peeta? Nothing?" I ask, aggravated by the difficulty of my own task.

Peeta lifts his head from his own project and scrunches up his eyebrows up.

"He was..shrewd" he decides finally.

"Shrewd?" I ask.

"Yeah. He was an observer. He could size everyone around him up in an instant- know their weaknesses, their strengths. Not just people, either. He was the same way about his surroundings. He was more intelligent than most people assumed" Peeta tells me.

I look at him in a sort of awe. He can truly find the good in anyone.

"How's that? That help?" he asks.

"You're kind of amazing, you know that?"

Peeta shoots me a shy grin.

"I do, but it's nice to hear out loud every once in a while" he tells me.

I walk over to his side of the table, suddenly feeling the need to get closer to him, when I see what he's working on: a picture of Glimmer.

But it's not just any picture. She radiates in the sunlight and her smile is so bright I have to remind myself not to squint. But it's what I see in her eyes that makes my stomach turn...it's love.

I think back to the last time I saw Peeta draw me- the monster he created. Even though I know he didn't have control over his mind at the time, it's hard to look at his drawing of Glimmer and not feel hurt and betrayed. And yes, perhaps a little jealous too.

"She was so beautiful" I say, gauging his face for a reaction.

"I guess she was" he says, but his face doesn't give anything else away.

"Did you two ever get close? You never said either way" I tell him.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"From the time you spent together in the arena. I never knew if you became friends" I say.

Peeta looks down at the picture, his eyes still revealing nothing about any feelings he may or may not have had for her.

"Not friends, no. I just felt like I understood her, I guess" he says.

"You must have been upset when I killed her, then."

He looks up at me.

"Everyone had to die in order for us to live, Katniss" he says slowly, as if I'm only hearing of the concept for the first time.

I stumble over my own words.

"I know that. I'm just saying, you know, if you developed feelings for at some point...then, that's okay. I mean, I can see it. It makes sense. That's all."

Bewilderment passes his face.

"You think I loved her?" he asks.

"I didn't say loved. But look at your own work, Peeta. Clearly you had some kind of feelings for her!" I say, shocked by how jealous I suddenly sound.

"Katniss, look" he says, pushing other papers aside to reveal the other half of his Glimmer drawing. There, directly in Glimmer's eye-line is a drawing of Cato, cleaning his knife off- completely oblivious to her presence.

"When I said I understood Glimmer, I meant I knew what it felt like to be competing in the arena with the person I was in love with. She may not have broadcasted her feelings for Cato on national television like me, but anyone with half a brain could see she was crazy about him."

I suddenly feel so idiotic and stupid I want to curl up in a ball and hide.

"Oh" I squeak out.

"I knew the longer I stayed with the Careers, the more I increased my chances of having to kill them myself, if it meant keeping you alive. I knew I couldn't take them all myself. Glimmer seemed like the obvious first choice because she had the bow and arrow I knew you so desperately needed. But once I realized she had feelings for Cato, I just sort of pitied her. I knew I could never take out Cato while she was still alive, because I could never be responsible for making a person feel that kind of pain" he confessed, before adding "No matter how much I wanted to kill him."

This stuns me. It's the first time I can remember Peeta admitting to a desire to take a human life.

"Why?" I ask.

"I spent a lot of time with him, don't forget. I heard every disgusting sentence that passed through his lips. He'd taunt me with all the things he had in store for you. He didn't just want to kill you, he wanted to cause you pain. To draw it out, make it last" his hands start to shake. I cover them with mine "He was a monster, Katniss."

"And I wanted to kill him, I did. But not while Glimmer was still alive. Then, the second the tracker jacker nest hit the ground and we all took off- I remember hearing Glimmer screaming, crying out for Cato to help her...but he just left her there to die. I came back for you as soon as I realized you'd use the opportunity to escape and did everything I can to get you out of danger. Once Cato figured out I double-crossed him, I tried to take him out, but he was too quick and cut me in the leg. And well, you know the rest."

I rest my head against his, suddenly feeling like I know him better now than I did a minute ago.

"I'm sorry, Peeta" I whisper "I didn't know."

"Did you really think I had feelings for Glimmer?" he asks.

"Like I said, she was beautiful."

"She has nothing on you, Katniss" he tells me, kissing my hands.

We stay like that for a few minutes before I finally break the silence.

"I should go home and wash up before dinner" I say.

"You can just shower here if you want" he says. It's a similiar line I used on him the night before the Quarter Quell, when the idea of us being apart for even a few minutes was too much for me to bear.

Our circumstances now may be different, but the feeling behind his words were the same.

"Okay" I tell him, dropping one last kiss on his head before making my way down the hall.

The shower I take is brief, but I do indulge in Peeta's aromatic shampoo and give my hair the thorough washing it needs. The familiar smell I know so well automatically puts me at ease.

When I get out of the shower, I realize the possible downside of showering at Peeta's...I don't have any clean clothes to wear. Almost as soon as I wrap a towel around myself, I hear a knock at the door.

"Yeah?" I call out.

"I brought you some sweats to put on" he tells me.

I smirk, opening the door just wide enough for him to pass me the clothes. His eyes train on mine like the gentleman he is.

"Thank you" I say before shutting the door again.

His clothes are soft on my skin and I love the way they feel. I bring the sleeves up to my nose and breathe deep.

Peeta sits on his bed, waiting for me, when I leave the bathroom.

"Feel better?" he asks.

"Yes, thank you" I tell him, automatically beginning to braid my wet hair.

"Why don't you ever leave your hair down?" he asks me.

I drop my hands mid-braid, suddenly self-conscious.

"I thought you liked it in a braid" I tell him.

He smiles at this observation, realizing how much I care about what he thinks. It's a vulnerable moment- one I'm not entirely comfortable with yet. Not to say I hate it, like I used to. It's just new for me. But at the same time, we're beginning to fall into this intimate territory together more and more and as scary as it sounds, it's starting to feel more normal.

"I do, but that doesn't mean you can't leave it down sometimes" he says, grabbing a comb off his nightstand. "C'mere."

I hesitate for the briefest of moments before sitting down next to him. He moves behind me and starts to brushing my hair through. He stops every now and then if he hits a tangle, and softly says "sorry" if he accidentally tugs too hard.

I realize after a few minutes that I don't want him to stop. I had no idea how intimate a gesture something like this could be. And then it's over far too soon, leaving me wanting more.

I turn around and find him looking at me with such love and adoration- the next thing I know, I'm pressing my lips against his.

It's our first kiss in forever. Or at least that's what it feels like. I breath through my nose as I deep the kiss, coaxing his lips against mine with more aggression than I've ever shown before. His hands come up into my hair, tangling his fingers around my locks, and suddenly I'm thankful I left it down after all. He uses the new angle to bring our mouthes even closer, until our lips are parting on their own accord.

I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling my body towards him until we're falling back onto his bed together. It's new territory and suddenly, I'm scared. Not of him, but of what this means and if I'm ready for it. I pull back for a fraction of a second, panting hard against him, to look into his eyes until I feel safe again. But instead of finding comfort, I see his desire for me reflected in his eyes.

I lean down and kiss him again, my hair fanning around both of us-providing a curtain from the outside world for us to hide behind. Peeta's arms move down, wrapping themselves around my back and pulling me flush against him. I breath his name against his lips, lost in the moment.

I feel something start to poke against me, but it's not until his legs part and my thigh slips between them that I realize what it is. I freeze in the moment, unsure of what to do. But it turns out I don't have to decide because suddenly Peeta rolls my body off of his and sets me down gently next to him.

My lips are swollen and my hormones tell me I want more, but I don't move from my spot. I look over at him. He's breathing hard- harder than I've ever seen him and his eyes are squeezed shut. And I find...I find that I just want kiss him more and more. It's that new kind of hunger, the one I remember feeling back in the cave and on the beach. Only this time, there's no arena, no cameras, no one else but him and I.

"I'm sorry" he whispers after a moment.

Before I have time to decipher what it is he's apologizing for, he gets off the bed and goes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. I hear the lock click behind him and know I'm not supposed to follow him in there.

Instead I sit up, trying to calm myself down. I decide to go downstairs and starting working on dinner to distract myself from what just happened.

A little while later, Peeta joins me in the kitchen. Neither of us call attention to the fact my hair is back in it's usual braid.

As we eat dinner together in silence, I hear the soft pitter-patter of rain-drops outside. I look over at Peeta, was hasn't said anything since he came down stairs. I don't know what to feel- shame? Rejection? Flattery? His face is practically unreadable at this point and it's driving me crazy.

"So I was thinking" I say at last, breaking the tension "since this rain doesn't sound like it will be stopping any time soon, maybe I should just spend the night here."

It's a bold thing to suggest, considering what transpired between us earlier. Also, a silly thing, considering what's happening outside can barely be called rain at all. But it's too late to take it back. I'm dangling the offer right in front of his face and it's up to him to decide what to do with it.

At first, I don't think he's going to say anything. But then...

"That's probably a good idea" he tells me, sparing at glance in my direction "It's coming down pretty hard out there."

I fight the smile that tugs on my lips.

"One of the worst storms we've had in a while" I say.

"It would almost be unsafe, for you to walk home out there alone" he adds.

"My thoughts exactly" I tell him.

We're both full out grinning at this point. It's preposterous, the games we play with each other sometimes. But we can't help it, it's who we are.

We feign exhaustion on equal terms much earlier than we usually turn in. It's clear we're both anxious to sleep in the same bed again after months-perhaps even a whole year by now- of being separated by our circumstances. This time when we're back in his room, however, there's no intimidation factor or awkwardness. We climb into together like we have many times before and I curl up around him with my head on his chest, he strong arms wrapped around me.

Peeta pulls the sheets straight over our heads, cloaking us in darkness. There are no more words, no more kisses on this night. Instead, we close our eyes and find a peaceful night's rest back in each other's arms.

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><p>TBC.<p>

Very interested to hear your thoughts on this one! -KJ


	7. Hunger

**AN: Thank you all so much for being patient with me. I promise the next update will happen much sooner! Your continuing support continues to mean the world to me. **

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><p>Chapter 7: Hunger<p>

It's crazy what a single good nights sleep can do for your emotional well-being. What's even better? An entire month's worth of sleeping through the night. This, I'm happy to report, is what life has been like since Peeta and I began sharing a bed again.

When my eyes flutter open, I'm not surprised to discover his steady breathing-signaling he's still fast asleep. I'm almost always the first to wake up in the morning. The hunter in me has always found it difficult to sleep past sunrise, but on mornings like this when it feels so good to be in Peeta's arms, I can hardly bring myself to get up at all.

When we first started to share a bed again, there was still a degree of politeness to the way we'd position ourselves- my head on his shoulder, his arm across my back. But as the nights ticked on, our bodies learned to relax and we began waking up in the most precarious positions- our legs tangled together, my palm flat on his bare stomach, his hands tangled in my hair, my nose presses against his jaw. I hate to admit to loving it as much as I do. The voice in the back of my head begs me to not fall for him any more than I already have, but if my body can accept getting closer to Peeta, it's only a matter of time before my brain does too.

The other things about our new sleeping arrangement? I feel him. In the morning. A lot. Against my leg, pressing into my hip, sometimes right up against my stomach. I thought it would be embarrassing, but really it just intrigues me. Considering how upset Peeta got the last time we kissed, I would have thought for certain he would have mentioned something about his frequently occurring problem. But other than murmuring the occasional "sorry" and shifting his hips away from me, nothing else has come of it.

This morning I wake to the feel on his hands splayed across my middle back, underneath my shirt. I've got one hand wrapped around his neck, softly stroking the hair on the back of his head. I wait to see if he wakes up, but instead he sighs- still deep asleep. Smiling, I lift my head and look down at his face. It's wonderful, being able to study him like this. He's always so attentive with me, so present, that sometimes it's hard to give him the attention he needs.

He really is beautiful.

Ever so softly, I brush a kiss against his lips.

I do this from time to time while he sleeps, just to see what I can get away with. I know one day he'll wake up and call me out on it, but for now it's fun to have these little stolen moments that he doesn't even know we're having. The corner of his mouth twitches, but I can tell by the way that his breathing stays the same he still isn't awake.

I put my head back on his chest, snuggling deeper against him.

Another hour later and I start to get restless.

"Peeta" I sing-song quietly.

"Mmm?" He grunts, still not fully awake.

"You're gonna sleep the day away" I tell him.

"Good" he says, pulling the covers over our heads.

I look up at him, his eyes are still closed but he's smiling. I have to resist the urge to kiss him again.

"Dr. Aurelius says we have to keep busy" I remind him.

Finally he opens his eyes and looks down at me. One of his hands is still half-way up my back and he just seems to notice. He pulls his hand away and smoothes my shirt back down.

"Sorry" he says.

"It's okay" I tell him, rolling myself onto my back. I don't want to move away from him, but he'd just call me a hypocrite if I wasn't the first to get up. I pull the covers back and sit up.

Peeta makes a sound of protest as the light from the room hits his face. He puts his hands over his eyes.

"It's too bright in here" he gruffs.

I lean over his face.

"If you wake up, I'll make breakfast" I tell him.

He pulls his hands away.

"Really?" he asks.

I nod, suddenly noticing how close our faces are. His blonde hair mused from sleep, his blue eyes squinting up at me. The next thing I know, I brush his bangs off his forehead, like I've grown accustomed to doing more and more. My hand lingers on the side of his face and I see Peeta get that look in his eyes- the one he gets right before every time he works up the courage to kiss me.

But before either of us makes a move, however, Buttercup jumps up on the bed and settled himself on Peeta's chest. I pull away, frowning at the way Buttercup looks at me with such contempt.

Moment ruined.

I slide off the bed and move to the door, fighting my current disappointment.

"Looks like someone's jealous" Peeta says with a crooked grin.

I spin around, already on the defensive.

"I'm not-"

"I meant Buttercup" he says.

"Oh. Right" I say as I move towards the door again.

"You feeling okay today, Katniss?" he asks.

"Yeah, I'm just..." I begin, racking my brain for the right word "...hungry."

I'm out the door before he has time to respond.

Despite eating a full meal, I still find myself not feeling fully satisfied a few hours later. As I wash the dirty dishes in the sink, I gaze out the window and see Peeta working in my garden. I can't help but notice his white t-shirt already covered in dirt and sweat. Even though he's lost considerable body mass since the games, I still find my gaze drawn to his strong arms as they work to pull troublesome weeds from the earth.

I can tell he's concentrating hard, because he doesn't once realize I'm watching him as intently as I am. There's something slightly voyeuristic about this scenario, I'm realizing, as I get a small thrill from what I'm doing. At one point I witness Peeta getting a drink of water from the hose and I nearly drop the glass I'm washing into the sink when he moves the hose so the water pours over his head.

I grab a towel from the closet and head for the backyard.

"Hey" he greets, as he catches the towel I toss him "Thanks."

I smile at him as he dries off his face and hair.

"How you doing out here?" I ask.

"Good, come see" he says, offering his arm out to me.

I saddle up beside him as he explains all the work he's been doing to the garden. Whether he's baking, painting or gardening, Peeta really can turn anything into something. We pause in front of the primrose bushes, the ones he first planted when he was released from the Capitol. With his arm wrapped securely around my shoulder, I find myself able to experience the beauty of the primrose bushes for the first time since I lost my sister.

"What do you think?" he asks. I can tell by the tone of his voice he's genuinely concerned about my opinion.

I bump my hip against his, giving him a small yet reassuring smile. To be honest, I've overwhelmed with what I'm feeling and don't trust myself to speak. It's crazy to think about how much time has passed already. A few short months ago I was in a hole so deep I never thought I'd ever pull myself out of it. And even though we've got a long way to go, already I feel myself experiencing emotions I never thought I would- or even could- again.

One of those emotions? Happiness.

"It's beautiful" I mumble "thank you."

A smile breaks out on his face.

"Your welcome" he says, dropping a kiss on my cheek. "I must smell terrible. I'll go take a shower."

"Alright" I say.

I follow him into the house, I realize, like a lost puppy. Or at least a lost cat. I barely know what I'm even doing until the phone starts ringing- breaking me out of my daze.

"I can get that" Peeta calls over his shoulder.

"I got it. It's probably just Haymitch" I respond as I bring the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I answer.

The voice on the other end almost knocks the wind out of me. Out of shock and nothing else, I find myself muttering short responses like I'm on autopilot. As the seconds tick on, I feel my body slowly start shrinking into myself until I'm curled up on the floor. After a soft "goodbye" I place the phone next to me on the floor and close my eyes.

Fifteen minutes when Peeta jogs back downstairs, I'm in the same fetal position.

"Katniss!" he yells, assuming I injured myself-perhaps even lost consciousness. "Katniss!"

I open my eyes and look at him, but offer no words of comfort.

"Are you okay? What happened?" he asks as he attempts to lift me up. My body is slack, practically dead-weight. He hoists me up until I'm lying across his lap. I feel my hair being brushed out of my eyes , methodically-almost as if he's searching for the answers he hopes are etching onto my face.

"Who was on the phone, Katniss?" he asks me.

I take a deep, shaky breath.

"Peeta..." I whisper.

"I can't help you unless you tell me. Please" he begs.

"My mother" I croak out before I dissolve into a mess of tears.

Peeta carries me over to the couch and lies down next to me. He holds me for the next few hours, whispering comforting words into my hair as I soak his clean shirt with my tears. He rubs circles into my back and forces himself into a labored breathing pattern, waiting for me to follow in suit. Eventually the sobs die down and I start taking the same deep breaths until we're completely in sync with each other. Soon my racing heart begins to level out and my body begins to relax. Out of sheer exhaustion and emotional distress, I pass out with my face pressed into his chest.

Later, when I wake up in the same position, I'm filled with guilt when I remember what happened.

"You okay?" he asks, stroking my hair softly.

I nod, becoming aware of the fact I've been lying on his arm all this time.

"Is your arm asleep?" I ask.

"No" he responds before adding "well, maybe a little. But I don't mind."

I push myself up, allowing Peeta to move his sore arm. I lie back down next to him, so our heads face each other.

"I'm sorry" I whisper.

"You have nothing to be sorry about" he tells me.

A few moments of easy silence pass.

"What did you mother say?" he prods gently.

"She's coming to Twelve. She wants to visit" I tell him.

"And you don't want her to?" he asks.

"No, I do. Of course I do. I miss her so much, but I haven't seen her since...and it will make it all real" I say "When it's just you and me, it's so much easier to pretend."

"Pretend?" the question falls from his lips before he has time to stop it.

"That Prim's not really gone."

This hangs in the air.

"It's important to spend time with the family you have" he tells me.

My stomach clenches at the thought of Peeta, my loyal and caring friend, an orphan to the world. No one is more deserving of a family- of a strong support system to look out for him. And yet all he has is me. According to Dr. Aurelius, this is the way Peeta wants it- to be with me, I mean- but still I can't help but think that he deserves so much more than what I can provide him. Especially in my current emotional state. Here I am crying over the idea of seeing my mother, full-well knowing that Peeta never will see his again. It's not fair.

"You can think of me as part of your family, you know" I tell him.

He watches me for a moment before kissing my forehead, his warm lips lingering.

"I already do" he says.

"And you're part of mine" I tell him.

He smiles at me and I can't help but return it.

"When is she coming?" he asks.

"Next week" I say.

"You'll be ready" Peeta says.

"Is that a promise?"

"It is."

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><p>TBC...<p>

Thoughts?


	8. Safe

**AN: Love seeing the dialogue going on between my reviewers in the comments. It's a writer's dream to inspire conversation, so please keep it coming! I noticed what some of you were saying about Katniss being selfish and how her relationship with Peeta is a little one-sided, but I really want to stick to my guns and have this story being told from her perspective only. That being said, I hope this chapter puts some of your minds at ease. -KJ**

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><p>Chapter 7: Safe<p>

I expected the days leading up to my mother's visit to be filled with worry and nerves. But true to his word, Peeta's plan to help me began and ended with keeping me as distracted as possible. This included, amongst other things, bringing me by the bakery, where the reconstruction had since begun. It was strange to be out and about in town as opposed to confined to just our homes and the woods like usual, but I'll admit it was a welcome change of pace from the usual routine.

The other way Peeta kept me busy was by kicking both of our butts back into shape. But unlike when we trained for the Games, we found ways to make our new training regiments fun. I'd sit on his back while he did push-ups, or I'd push him in a wheel-barrel around our back yard. One afternoon we were laughing so hard it drew Haymitch out of his house and right to us. He started coming around more frequently after that first day, even began to suggest variations of strength training exercises for us to do together. I don't know if it was some twisted form of nostalgia I felt for the last life we all lived together or if it was just a quiet celebration for the fact we survived it at all, but it felt really comforting to have Haymitch there, bossing us around again.

At first I wasn't sure what prompted this change in Haymitch, motivating him to find it in himself to motivate us...until the night before my mother's visit when I realized he was doing the same thing as Peeta (who had no doubt tipped him off as to what was happening): he was doing everything he could to keep my mind off of what I was about to face.

I wake up with this realization in the middle of the night, only to notice Peeta is not in bed beside me. The moment I open the bedroom door, the sweet smell of fresh bread hits my nose. I creep down the stairs, towards the soft glow of the kitchen light. I can't help but smile at the sight of Peeta in his pajamas and a pair of oven-mitts, pulling a loaf of bread from the oven.

"Hey" I say softly, trying to not startle him.

He jumps all the same, but luckily he doesn't drop the pan.

"Sorry" I apologize.

"It's okay" he says, placing it down gently "Did I wake you?"

"No, I just think my body realized you weren't there" I tell him "Couldn't sleep?"

"I just want everything to be ready for tomorrow" he says.

"You don't have to worry about anything. My mother already thinks the world of you" I say.

"Maybe as a person, but not as..."

"As what?"

"Whatever it is we are to each other" he says, before turning his attention back to the loaf of bread.

"I just want things to go well" he adds.

"She's the one who decided to leave Twelve- to leave me here when I was at my darkest point. If anything, she should be thanking you for being there for me when she couldn't."

Peeta doesn't respond as he focuses on slicing the bread in a precise way. I watch him for a few moments, trying to figure out where his head is at.

"How are you doing, Peeta? With everything?" I ask.

More silence, until...

"Honestly, I don't know" he says, holding out a slice to me "Do you want some?"

"Sure" I say, taking it from him. The moment I do, I realize it's the same kind of bread he tossed to me so many years ago when I was out in the rain, starving. I trace the nuts and berries in the slice before taking a bite.

"It's not even burnt this time. Not that my own mother would be around to hit me for it, even if it was."

I stop chewing. I try to think of a response, but I come up short.

"It wasn't her fault she was so angry. Her husband was in love with a different woman their whole lives. And even though I never told her, I know she knew how I felt about you"

Despite facing away from me, I can hear the tears in his voice.

"I think she resented me for it, for being like my father and destined to relive his mistakes. She may not have been the kindest person, but she was perceptive" he says, adding "And she was my mom."

I put down the bread and hug him from behind, holding him fiercely to my chest.

"Your father loved her too, I know he did" I tell him, even though I knew nothing about his parents' relationship or their feelings for one another.

"But it was a different kind of love. The love you settle for, not the one you'd die for" he says.

It's a heartbreaking idea- the thought of Peeta, one of the biggest romantics I've ever met, being born from quite possibly a loveless marriage. And then there's me, the cynic, who came from parents who loved each other so strongly that when my father died, my mother's happiness died with him.

And yet here the two of us are, despite everything, standing together in my kitchen.

"At least when you settle, there's less of a chance of getting hurt. It's safer" I tell him. I know it's not what he wants to hear, but it's the only thing I can think to say.

"Love isn't about being safe, Katniss."

"Sometimes it can be though, right?" I ask, resting my chin on his shoulder. "Don't you ever feel safe around me?"

"I feel safe when I know you're safe" he says.

"That's not what I meant" I tell him.

"I know" he says.

We remain standing like that for a little while before I convince him to follow me back to bed.

"Can I hold you tonight?"

I can see the hesitation in his stance for the briefest of moments. He's never been one to deny me, but I want to make it clear to him that tonight none of this is about me.

"I want to take care of you" I tell him, feeling more vulnerable as I sit in bed facing him than I realized I ever could. "Let me take care of you."

After what felt like a half of century of waiting, Peeta finally nods and climbs into bed with me. He rests his head on my chest- just like I've done to him many times before. But this time, it's my arms that wrap themselves around his body protectively.

I feel him relax into my arms and dose off within a few minutes, but I stay awake. It's not that I can't fall asleep, but rather that I _want_ to stay awake. I want to feel the satisfaction of knowing Peeta is safe in my arms- of knowing I can give myself to him in this way, like he's done for me. I want...I want him to need me just as much as I need him. And not just because he loves me, but because he can trust and rely on me to always be there for him.

He told me one afternoon that his nightmares have gone away, but the moment I feel him tense up in my arms hours later, I know he was lying to me.

"No" I hear him say against my chest "Katniss, wait!"

"Shhh" I whisper, rubbing my arms up and down his back. It occurs to me there is an equal possibility that he's dreaming I'm killing his loved ones just as much as he's dreaming that I'm the one getting killed-but until he wakes up, I won't know for sure.

"You're okay, Peeta. You're safe" I tell him softly, stroking his hair.

His whole body constricts again as his breathing becomes irregular. He wakes up but is frozen in place. I remember him telling me about this happening back on the train. Unlike me, his night terrors don't send him into a kicking and screaming frenzy. They paralyze him.

"Katniss?" he whispers.

"I...I'm right here" I tell him.

After a moment he lifts his head and looks down at me. This is it, I tell myself. My hand reaches for my pearl necklace, as I pray it will protect me from what's about to transpire.

Instead, Peeta lifts a hand to touch my face- lovingly.

"You're okay" he says, making it sound like both a question and an answer.

"So are you" I tell him.

He leans down and kisses me softly on the mouth. It's not filled with lust or desire like the last time, but it doesn't make it any less enticing. When he pulls away, I feel my head lifting on it's own accord to return the kiss before I realize what I'm doing. But it's too late anyway because Peeta is already resettling himself back into my arms and dozing off again.

The next morning, however, Peeta is once again up before me and continuing his preparations from the night before. I busy myself with a long shower and spend extra time braiding my hair just right- just the way my mother remembered it. Not burnt from fire or messy from battle, but sleek and smooth and safe.

"Can I help with anything?" I ask him when I walk into the kitchen.

"Everything's mostly done" he tells me "Thanks though."

As Peeta walks by me, he grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. I know he's silently thanking me for comforting him last night.

"Of course" I say.

An hour later, the doorbell rings and my heart drops to my toes.

"You can do this" Peeta says, before dropping a gently kiss on my temple.

In that moment with him beside me, I feel stronger. I feel capable to face what I'm about to face. He promised me I would, but hearing something and actually living it are two very different things.

I answer the door and see my mother waiting with a bouquet of flowers and a cautious smile. Whether the caution comes from the anxiety of seeing me after all this time or the fear that I'm a lot worse off than even she'd imagine, I'm not sure. I didn't give her much time to analyze me either way because before I know it I'm catapulting myself into her arms, crushing the flowers between us.

"Mommy" I whisper into her hair.

"Hi baby girl" she whispers back.

Her arms around me are not fragile, or breakable as they once were; she too is stronger, more determined. After years of being a victim, of allowing the crippling sorrow of losing her husband to consume her being, I realize that my mother has finally learned how to become a survivor.

We hold each other for a long time before finally letting go. My mother's eyes fall on Peeta instantly, who gives her his warmest smile.

"It's good to see you, Mrs. Everdeen" he says.

My mother approaches him, touching his cheek with her palm.

"You as well Peeta" she says.

They hug.

"I hope you're hungry" I say "Peeta was up half the night cooking for you."

"Is that so?" she asks, unable to hide her surprise.

"It was nothing, I assure you" he says.

"I still appreciate it" she tells him.

I didn't give it much forethought, but it occurred to me as Peeta and I moved around the kitchen in perfect synchronicity that sight of us so domesticated with each other was probably very jarring for my mother. Whether or not she felt this way, she concealed her feelings well during lunch as we sifted through every small talk topic we could come up with. Peeta talked about the construction on the bakery and I told her about the book we were working on-but I knew better than to show it to her and risk reopening closed wounds. I lied and said we had left it at Peeta's house.

Things took a more serious turn when my mother asked Peeta about his recovery from being hiijacked.

"But you're cured now, aren't you?" she asked him.

"Well..." he begins

"It's not a matter of being cured or not cured" I interject, fondling the pearl around my neck subconsciously "It's about training your mind to stay grounded in the present and forcing out the fabrications. Right Peeta?"

"Right" he says "But I'm continuing weekly phone sessions with Dr. Aurelius as well. It's an on-going process" he says before adding "But Katniss' safety is always my number one priority."

"Yes, I remember" my mother says.

Her tone is hard to decipher. Part of me thinks she's just making a sincere observation; while part of me thinks she's attempting to further voice her concern over my safety as well.

Under the table, Peeta's hand slips into mine. And then all of my thoughts fade away.

TBC.

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><p>Thoughts? I promise the next chapter is going to be verrrry interesting to some of you ;)<p> 


	9. Love

**AN: As always, your continuing support and thoughtful reviews mean the world to me. Things are going to start to heat up between Katniss and Peeta from here on out, but I'm still taking it slow with them. Hope this chapter is enough to quench your thirst...**

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><p>Chapter 8: Love<p>

Later, after lunch, Peeta offers to clean up so my mother and I can talk alone. I try to convince him to let me clean up later since he did almost all the work already, but he insists. Keeping busy, I realize, is a two-way street for Peeta.

I lead my mother outside to the backyard. The moment the door shuts behind me, the question on the tip of my tongue all day finally boils to the surface.

"How did you do it?"

"Do what?" she asks.

"Move on" I say.

"I haven't moved on from anything" she tell me.

"But you have, you're different. The way you carry yourself, the way you speak. You can't deny that."

"I had a change in perspective, I guess you could say."

"But how did you find the strength?"

She reaches over, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"You, Katniss."

"Me?"

"During the years I watched you take care of Prim, part of me resented you for being so much stronger than me. It made me ashamed, knowing the burden I was pushing on to you because I was too weak to do it myself. But then after you volunteered at the Reaping, I just knew I couldn't afford to be selfish anymore. I always believed in you, but never in my wildest dreams could I imagine what you were capable of. You lead an entire revolution, you emancipated everyone- you changed life as we know it..."

"And Prim's dead because of it" I tell her.

"And if she was sent into the Arena under the Capitol's control, should would have died even sooner" my mother says.

Tears sting my eyes. I know she's right, but I hate the idea of anyone trying to let me off the hook for the lives lost because of me-especially my mother and especially about my own baby sister.

"I could have done more to save her" I say.

"You can't save everyone."

"I saved Peeta. And he was more far gone than anyone."

"The world may have seen you as a Mockingjay, Katniss, but you and I both know you're only human. An extraordinary human, but a human just the same. You did everything you could, we all did-including Prim. Do you think she ever would have developed into the same mature, loving individual without your influence? She volunteered to join the fight just like you, because she saw what courage could accomplish and she wanted to do the same. And she did. For as long as she could."

"Do you miss her?"

"Every second of every day" my mother says.

"Me too" I whisper.

The Primrose bushes catch her eye. She approaches them, touching one of the buds lovingly.

"Did you plant these?" she asks.

"No, that was Peeta."

I see a look pass over my mother's face.

"Are you two living together?" she asks.

"No" I say, even though we practically do.

"Katniss, if you are...it's okay, you know. Good even" she says "I'm still worried about how the hijacking has affect him, but even so...it's clear he loves you again, very much. He wears his devotion on his sleeve like a prize. Part of me feels silly for ever doubting his feelings for you."

I'm not sure why, but hearing my mother says these words out-loud starts to freak me out. She isn't telling me anything I don't already know, but something about these words in particular coming out of my mother has me on edge.

"He's a friend, that's all" I tell her.

"He reminds me of your father, a bit. And the way he used to look at me- like I couldn't do a thing in the world wrong even if I tried. It made me feel stronger than I ever thought imaginable. Invincible, even."

And that's it. The thing that's making my heart race. Because I bore first hand witness to what happens to a woman after she loses her one true love. She falls apart. She becomes weak. She loses all sense of autonomy.

She's destroyed.

I think of Peeta, sweet Peeta, with his comforting touches and words of endearment. I think of the warmth that runs through me every time he walks into the room, or when our hands accidentally brush together, or when I wake up in the middle of the night to steal a kiss from his soft lips.

Oh god.

_I'm in love. _

Painfully, maddeningly in love with Peeta Mellark. And together we're just as doomed as star-crossed lovers as we were in the first arena as we are now...only now even more so that I love him back. I think about his dream of a family...the one I've already adamantly denied him and my stomach clenches in pain. It's just a matter of time before I lose him to a woman who can give him what he needs. And then I'll be destroyed, just like my mother.

I can't...I can't...

"I can't do this" I tell her suddenly.

"Katniss, what's wrong?" my mother asks.

"It's not what you think."

"You can deny it all you want, but it's clear to me that..."

"It's not like that with us, okay? Peeta may have feelings for me, but I don't feel the same about him. He's just a friend to me and we'll never be anything more than that, so just drop it- please" I lash out before I can stop myself.

The sound of a click behind me sends me reeling. I look over just in time to see Peeta's hurt eyes lock with mine for a moment before he goes back into the house.

He heard everything.

I feel big and small at the same time. Somehow with a few brief words, I managed to convince him of something I know in my heart to be the farthest thing from the truth.

"You should go apologize. Tell him you didn't mean it."

"But I did."

"You don't have to lie to anyone anymore, Katniss. You've got nothing left to lose and everything to gain. Remember that" she tells him.

If only she knew the truth.

My mother leaves with the promise to write and call often, while I make a half-hearted promise to venture out and visit her in the near future. She doesn't mention Gale once, and that I am grateful for. I know I'll have to approach that subject in the future, but for now it's a relief.

Like the gentleman he is, Peeta sticks around long enough to give my mother a proper send-off- he even offers to walk her out, but she declines his offer- clearly sensing the importance of us talking alone first.

Once she's gone, however, Peeta begins to collect his things without another word.

"You won't even give me a chance to explain?" I ask.

"There's nothing to explain. I get it" he says curtly.

"What you heard was out context" I try.

He gives me a dubious look.

"At least respect me enough to acknowledge I'm not an idiot" he says, making his way towards the door.

"You'll be the biggest idiot I know if you leave without talking to me" I say, grabbing his hand.

He looks down at our joined hands, a sad smile on his face.

"The games are over, Katniss. They have been for a long time. So you can drop this act for good" he tells me.

"Why does everyone keep insisting on telling me how I feel?"

"Because you keep everything bottled up inside of you- you always have. And one of these days, you're going to explode."

Peeta pulls his hand out of mine and opens the door.

Something inside me snaps. I slam the door shut and push him against it- kissing him soundly. I put everything into it. My frustration. My sadness. My hunger. I press against him, as close as I can get. My arms wrapped around his neck, holding him close- it's only a matter of time before Peeta's arms find their way around me. Between my persistent kisses and his strong grip, I find myself getting lightheaded.

The word "love" keeps floating into my head, multiplying by the second until it's the only thing I'm thinking of. Love. Love. Love.

When oxygen becomes an issues, we break apart- panting hard against each other's faces. Peeta's gaze is caught somewhere between bafflement and arousal.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he asks me softly.

_Because I love you._

My heart tells me to scream it, but my head knows I'm not ready. Not to say it, at least. And besides, he wouldn't believe me- not in a million years. He'd think I was just teasing him for my own entertainment.

"I didn't mean what I said to her. I do care about you, Peeta. Of course I care about you. Why else would I be fighting so hard against it?"

"Against what?"

"This" I whisper as my lips move to claim his once again.

So instead, I move my lips to his defined jaw line, kissing a trail to his ear. I impulsively trace the shell of his ear with my tongue. When he gasps and pushes his hips against mine, I feel encouraged to continue. When I get to the column of his neck, I use my teeth to gently graze his skin. Another bold move, another jolt of his hips.

His enthusiastic reaction sends me on an emotional power-trip. It makes me want to keep exploring, every second of every day, until I find everything there is to find. I briefly wonder if it's the same for him- until his hands move down to cup my ass, giving it just enough of a squeeze to illicit a gasp from my lips. The smile he gives me right before our mouths fuse together sends a shock right down to my core.

The hunger rages on.

The next thing I know we're moving back towards the living room. I land on the couch first and Peeta is soon to follow, settling himself against me in the most intimate way possible.

"I can't lose you" I whisper against his lips.

"You won't. Katniss, I promise..."

I pull his head back down to mine, cutting him off. I can't believe there was ever a time in my life where I didn't enjoy kissing him- now it's all I can think about. But not just on my lips. I imagine him kissing every part of me and I just want more.

My hands slide down his shoulders, exploring, past the slope of his lower back. I push down, forcing his hips against mine even more. I feel his manhood pressing against me in the most delicious way, sending shivers down my spine.

Peeta must mistake this reaction for trembles of fear, because he pulls away suddenly.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine" I insist, trying to pull him back to me, but he resists again and starts to sit up.

"We should...we should stop" he says. I can tell it's taking everything he has to use restraint. But just this once, I wish he wasn't such a gentleman.

I sit up next to him, his face cradled in my hands as I speak the words clearly.

"Don't pull away from me."

As I learn forward to kiss him again, I watch the resolve melt away in his features as he surrenders himself to me. Feeling bolder, I move to straddle his lap so our thighs touch. Peeta makes a noise in the back of his throat as I rub my hips against his, setting a slow pace. Soon our mouths break away- foreheads pressed together, we keep eye-contact as I increase the pressure and speed of my hips. Peeta's breathing becomes more and more labored until he's practically panting. His head hangs back against the couch, while his hands have my hips in a vice-grip.

I pick up my pace even more, consumed with the desire to find out what happens next.

A loud knock on the door jolts both of us out of the moment.

"Katniss? You home?"

It's Haymitch. And he's opening the door before either of us have time to stop it from happening. I roll off Peeta, and hurry to my feet- despite my legs feeling like jelly.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, breathless, just as he barges in.

"I just came by to..." he trails off.

One glance at my mused hair, bruised lips, and flushed cheeks...and I know we've been caught.

"I thought your mother was visiting today?" he says.

"She left" I tell him, blushing even more if possible.

A small smile tugs at his lips.

"I can see that" Haymitch says.

I roll my eyes, hurrying into the kitchen to hide my mortification.

"Aren't you going to stand up and greet me, son?" I can hear him ask Peeta, who no doubt has draped a blanket over his lap by now.

"In a minute" is his curt reply.

Haymitch's laughter fills the living room.

* * *

><p>TBC :)<p> 


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